Thursday, March 17, 2011
It's morning I think. I don't wear a watch and I left my cell phone on my desk upstairs. I can only imagine where it is now, no doubt crushed into a thousand pieces under the weight of smoldering concrete and twisted metal. I still can't believe I'm alive. I'm trapped in a small custodial closet in the basement of the Vera-Cross building. It was by pure dumb luck that I ended up in this stinking, moldy hole of a closet. When I heard the roar of the building collapsing I ran. I ran down the hall as fast as I could, but the power cut out before I reached the stairs and in my panic I opened the custodial closet door thinking it was the stairwell. It was pitch black and before I figured out where I was it was too late. The hallway collapsed, crushing the closet door and shooting a blast of scorching dust and debris my way, throwing me against the back wall. That is when everything went silent and numb. My last thought before losing consciousness was wondering who was going to feed my dog, James. Odd, I know. Here I was on the verge of a horrible, crushing death and I was worried about James. I have no idea how long I was out; an hour, two hours, two days? All I know is that I awoke to a heavy blackness, a silent void of smoldering nothingness. I thought I was dead and with the thick scent of smoke burning my lungs and the chalky taste of ash on my lips I could swear I was in hell. When I found the lighter in my pocket and was finally able to shed some light into the room my fears were confirmed. No, I wasn't dead, but I was in hell, stranded alive in the moldy basement of a large building under a jigsaw of twenty-one crumpled floors with a jagged piece of rebar embedded three inches into my leg. But it's okay because its morning I think and a lone shaft of dusty sunlight has found its way into my stale prison, a warm ray of life and hope. So now I sit, waiting for my rescuers, leg bandaged, sitting in a bloody pool, waiting to be found--a lone needle in a ten thousand ton haystack clasping onto this single amazing ray of life, of hope, of sunshine.
Posted by Richard Bradford at 8:50 PM